


Same Bus, Different Ride

by timeloop



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bus, Drabble, Falling in love with a stranger, Fluff, Getting Together, I really don't know how to tag, It's a really random story, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1231669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeloop/pseuds/timeloop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve starts noticing a handsome brunet during his bus ride every day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Bus, Different Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is really random.  
> Un beta'd.

**Monday**

Raindrops splattered against Steve's jacket as he tried to cover his head with his hoodie without much success. Pulling the sleeves further down his arms as the wind continued howling, he craned his neck and looked out for the bus.

Ten minutes later, a long black bus stopped at his station. He tapped his concession card before sliding into the seat right at the back. Shaking the raindrops out of his hair, he ran a hand through it after he was done in an attempt to return it to its initial pre-rain state.

Glancing to his left in order to ensure that he had not annoyed any other passengers, a brunet he had never seen before caught his eye. From the side, the man had a very defined jaw that Steve couldn't help looking at for a few minutes more than necessary. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head and turned to look out of the window.

***

**Tuesday**

The bus was five minutes earlier than usual today, and Steve had to break into a run in order to get onto it. Panting, he sat heavily when he reached the seat right at the back. Reaching into his bag to grab a bottle of water, his fingers slipped as he unscrewed the cap and it flew all the way to the other side of the seat.

Scrambling to pick it up, he found himself looking at a pair of black leather shoes, the kind that could only be afforded by rich people. Steve sneaked a glance up, only to see that they belonged to the brunet from yesterday.

Steve's hand gripped the cap more tightly as he realized that the brunet's jawline looked even better when he was practically kneeling in front of him. Not daring to risk being caught, Steve shot back up and sat back in his seat without taking another look in the other direction.

***

**Wednesday**

As Steve got on the bus and greeted the driver with a "Good morning!", he had to remind himself not to look in the direction where the brunet was sitting yesterday. Taking a few strides to his seat, he had barely gotten comfortable when a voice said, "Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Steve looked up in surprise. Surely taking a seat wasn't dangerous or anything? He looked towards the direction of the voice. The brunet from yesterday turned to Steve and spoke again, "Don't look at me like that, come on."

Steve blushed and quickly turned away, not seeing that the man had just pressed two fingers to his left ear, where a tiny black earpiece was hidden. All Steve could think of that day was what beautiful brown eyes the man had.

***

**Thursday**

The bus was ten minutes late today, and Steve was starting to get worried. He was starting to imagine that the driver had gotten into a terrible accident where the entire bus had caught fire and was burning up in flames when the familiar black figure entered his line of sight.

He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding as he boarded the bus, his heart starting to calm itself again. Unfortunately, it didn't last very long as he spotted the brunet safe and sound and definitely not burning in any imaginary flames in his own corner, head leaning again the window, eyes closed.

The man's eyes were shadowed by dark circles, his mouth scrunched up tightly as he slept. Suddenly, as if he was aware that he was being watched, he woke up with a jolt, the calm expression on his face becoming closed and guarded once more. Steve quickly turned away, feeling an odd sense of guilt as he felt responsible for wiping the calmness off the other man's face. As he took his seat, he couldn’t help sneaking another glance to his right, and he didn’t regret doing so as he saw that the man had fallen asleep again.

***

**Friday**

Steve was having a great morning seeing how it was the last day before the weekend. Mentally allocating his time between the animal shelter, the orphanage and his multiple other responsibilities, he was starting to feel a little overwhelmed thinking about how little time he had when he was startled by a honk.

He hadn't even noticed the bus coming into the station. Ducking his head in apology to the driver, he rushed to his seat and pulled his planner out. Taking a pen to write everything down, he heard only a scratching sound as the dry nib scraped over the paper. Steve stared blankly at the book for a moment before sighing deeply.

He was halfway to flipping his book shut when a black pen embossed with the gold letters "Property of T.S" was placed into his hands. The hand holding the pen had slender, dextrous fingers marked with scars. They looked like solder burns, _a mechanic's hands_ , Steve thought.

His mouth was halfway open to mouthing his thanks when the bus stops and the last sight he catches is of a brunet getting off. He closes his mouth and places the pen gently into his bag.

***

**Saturday**

The bus doesn't come at one hour intervals like on weekdays, and Steve takes the opportunity to sketch the landscape as he waits for the bus. Holding a lead pencil in his hand, he quickly draws the skyscrapers and the people, putting the general bustle of life in the city into a drawing.

Satisfied, he retrieves his pencil-case from his bag and places the pencil in. The black and gold pen is lying among his pens, looking strangely out of place and yet fitting there as if it had been there for ages.

It's a different driver on the bus today, a young man with a flushed face who nods in greeting to him. Steve nods back before turning immediately to the back corner of the bus. Today the brunet is wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, a stark contrast to the crisp business suits he usually wore on weekdays. Steve was rather surprised that he noticed, but he decided that he preferred this version, where the man looked much more at ease and not like he was being suffocated by a suit and tie.

He walks towards the man, willing himself to calm his pounding heart as he draws the pen out of his bag. He hands it to him, ignoring the raised eyebrow shot his way. Alas, his brain freezes as the man takes hold of the pen and he hands it over with just a small nod before heading to his seat.

He sneaks a look over, but the man seems unfazed by Steve’s weird behaviour, giving him a small smile. At the sight of it, Steve's heart felt like it had just exploded, bursting with pleasure and delight, as if the world had stopped in that moment when those eyes were focused on him. He swallows hard and forces himself to turn away before letting a wide grin settle on his mouth.

***

**Sunday**

As Steve waits for the bus he thinks about the handsome stranger, and whether he'll see him again. When he gets on, his eyes focus without any hesitation on the back seat in the corner. This time the brunet is looking back at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up. There is no hint on surprise or fear on his face as he gets off his seat and walks toward Steve.

"Hi." His voice is smooth and velvety, and Steve feels like he could drown in the pure richness of it.

But all Steve manages to say is, "Hi."

Brunet tilts his head to the side, considering Steve.

"So, was my pen any good?"  
"Huh? Oh yes it was real smooth, thank you."  
"So why'd you return it?"  
"What? Well, it wasn't mine, I didn't think I should keep it?"

At this point Steve's nerve was unravelling and he thought for a moment of running out of the bus, to escape this crushing sense of panic he felt now that he was face to face with possibly the most gorgeous stranger he had ever seen.

"Ah."  
"Yeah."  
"Well. My name's Tony. Tony Stark."  
"So that's what T.S stands for..."  
"Excuse me?"  
"Nothing! I'm Steve. Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you."

They were looking at each other for a moment, both men seeking something in the other's eyes, and the warmth they both felt blossoming in their own hearts when they found it was not to be denied. Reaching out his hand, Tony waited for Steve to hold onto it before leading him to the back seat, but this time they sat _together_ , in their own little corner of the bus.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Could have been a longer/ more developed fic but the inspiration left me...


End file.
